


Brothers in Every Way but Blood

by HereForTheFic



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arson, Attempted robbery, Batman still exists though, Brothers, Civilian AU, Cooking, Cuddles, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Literal Sleeping Together, Movie Night, NO CAPES, No Incest, Photography, Protective Jason Todd, Younger!Dick, accidental meetings, bookstore, i can't believe that's a tag, i'll add tags as i go, lots of comfort, older!jason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26357776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereForTheFic/pseuds/HereForTheFic
Summary: All Jason wanted was a good night’s rest. What he gets instead is a little brother. Curse you Gotham!Or: where I make an attempt to write. Fluff ensues.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 49
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest with you all here, this is my first time writing in a long time, so feel free to give constructive criticism where it's needed! I'm really sorry if the characters are pretty OoC, I've never written stuff for Batman before.
> 
> As a preface, Jason here is 17-18 and Dick's around 11-12 (but he's a smol bean, no wonder Jason thinks he's younger). They're somewhere around Crime Alley, but not too close for plot purposes.
> 
> I personally love fics where Jason's the older brother, so I decided why not pitch in my two cents.
> 
> That being said, this is an AU, but I apologize if the characterizations aren't entirely in character.
> 
> I'm not totally sure if I want this to be stories that connect to each other, but for now, I'm kind of writing down oneshot ideas that catch my attention. Feel free to request something in the comments though! I can't promise I'll be able to write them, but I do want to explore a bit with new ideas or anything of the like! :)

He doesn’t understand what wakes him up in the middle of the night until he hears the noise a second time.

Before he’s even fully conscious, Jason finds himself, pocket knife in hand, silently dashing across his room to the door that opens up to the kitchen beyond.

He switches between berating and praising himself for keeping a habit of closing his bedroom door at night. He knows he’s no longer in any danger of the man he loathed to call a father, but he still fears that one day, that man’ll find him and force him back to that shitty apartment complex once again.

The thought, coupled with the situation he’s finding himself in, shoots ice through his veins, and he forces himself to take a deep breath before coming back to the present and begin analyzing his options.

Jason knows unlocking the door will create enough noise to alert whoever’s on the other side that he’s up and about, but he also knows that if he doesn’t open it, the intruder could eventually attempt to break into his room regardless.

 _Well, if I’m going down,_ he thinks, _I‘ll go down fighting._

Indecision resolved, he unlocks his door, twists the handle, and runs, weapon held out in front of him, to the light switch on the opposite side of the kitchen.

 _“Freeze!”_ He shouts, momentarily blinded. He hopes that the knife held threateningly in front of him along with the sudden burst of light stalls the intruder long enough for him to get his bearings back.

He hears a fearful gasp and a loud crash of something ( _a can of food maybe?_ ) against the floor before he’s able to take in the scene in front of him.

Beyond his table and in front of an open cabinet stands a boy ( _maybe 8 years old? 9 at the most_ ) shaking like a leaf and folding in on himself with his hands in the air.

Jason has to blink several times before he’s able to register the small whimpers emitting from the child.

“...ease, please don’t hurt me! I didn’t mean to, I just thought no one was here, honest!” The boy cries, an accent ( _European maybe? Not one of Gotham, that’s for sure_ ) evident in his words. “I’ll go, I’ll go! Please don’t hurt me!”

The amount of times that a situation has left Jason utterly speechless can be counted on one hand if he attempts to recall them. This is definitely one to add to the number.

“Hey, shh, you’ll wake the neighbors,” Jason says dumbly, lowering the knife in one hand and lifting the other in an attempt to appear friendly. He winces as the boy flinches at the action and hunches even further into himself. Jason figures that that’s probably how to _not_ start a conversation with a scared-shitless kid.

“What‘re you doing here?” Jason tries again, softening his voice and internally scrambling to find the right approach to the situation.

He’s often better at handling kids than adults, but that’s usually when they’re passing by, trying to get a basketball that’s rolled away from them or asking for any openings on anything job related.

So what if he's never handled a situation where a kid breaks into his place in the middle of the night to look for food through his cabinets? Sue him.

 _Guess this is one way to find out,_ he muses.

“Please, I’ll go, don’t call the police!” The boy pleads. “I promise not to come back, just please let me go!” There are tears running down the child’s face now, and his shaking has intensified at least a tenfold in the thirty seconds since Jason last spoke.

“Hey, calm down, no one’s gonna call the police.” Jason replies, a little too roughly from the way the boy’s eyes widen a fraction more. He tries to school his expression and body language into something more friendly, not knowing if he succeeds or not.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, ok? You’re safe with me, don’t worry,” Jason assures, relieved when he sees the kid relax a fraction.

 _This kid’s tiny as fuck,_ he thinks to himself.

That’s when he notices the bruises.

Anger knocks Jason’s next few thoughts away as he finds small cuts littered across the boy’s bare arms, taking in how skinny he actually is ( _not that Jason was any better at that age, but at least he didn’t look like death run over, goddamnit-_ ) and the winter wear the boy in front of him lacks. A black T-shirt and too big shorts do nothing in Gotham, no matter what time of year it is.

Nights in Gotham are bad in general. With the near-constant rain that pours onto the city almost every day of the year, it’s hell frozen over.

Winter nights are especially bad. You can practically feel the cold settle in your bones the moment you step outside. The snow that occasionally comes rarely ever looks like snow because of the pollution that covers the city. Even if you’re a native Gothamite, you’re almost guaranteed a painful, drawn out death once you find yourself abandoned to the streets at night.

Jason briefly wonders if the kid recently escaped abusive parents. The signs are all there, and if he can get the boy to tell him what happened to him, he’s sure he can come up with some way to help.

He himself is no stranger to those types of situations. Having escaped one himself, Jason has connections he knows he can go to for help. They won’t ask questions either if Jason plays his cards right, but that’s a problem he’ll have to think about later.

Jason goes to pocket the knife in his hand and inches closer to the boy, both hands held out in front of him like an offering.

The kid, thankfully, just flickers his eyes rapidly from Jason’s hands to his face, not daring to move away from him. He’s still shaking, but Jason thinks it’s less fear and more exhaustion as he notes the dark circles under his bright eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he starts. “How ‘bout this. You go on and sit at the table over there,” Jason lifts a hand to point at the small dinner table slightly in front of him to the left. “and tell me what you’re doing here while I go and make us something to eat, hmm? Sound like a good idea?”

Jason doesn’t bother to remind himself that he still needs to stock up on food again once he gets his paycheck at the end of that week. He knows he’ll go once he’s found time in his busy schedule.

The boy nods and slowly uncurls from his position on the floor, watching Jason as he goes, as if anticipating he’d change his mind and slap the child for moving at all.

Once the boy’s on his feet, he quickly darts toward the table. Instead of taking a seat on a chair like Jason thought he would, the kid makes sure the table’s directly between him and Jason, ignoring the moveable furniture and never once taking his eyes off of him.

 _Good survival instincts, better assessment to danger._ Jason internally praises, but immediately regrets the thought.

 _No one should have to learn that so early on in life._ He thinks bitterly. There’s a swell of protectiveness that claws its way up at the thought, but Jason shoves it away quickly.

Jason turns his attention to the item that the boy dropped previously, purposefully taking his eyes off of him in an attempt to gain his trust, or at least allow him to lower his guard. The boy doesn’t need to fear Jason.

He finds the dropped can and turns it over to read the label.

 _Canned coffee beans?_ He lifts an eyebrow and turns back over to look at the kid behind the table. The boy hasn’t said a word or moved an inch since Jason told him to sit there. He figures the kid’s scared of getting in trouble with Jason if he doesn’t do exactly what he’s told, regardless of whether or not Jason gave him permission to talk.

He holds the can up so the boy can see the label.

“Can I ask you what you planned to do with a can of coffee beans?” Jason asks, voice teetering on teasing. There’s a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips as he watches the kid tense and blush slightly from his unexpected question.

“It was dark… I thought it was something else…” his explanation trails off, eyes darting around the room to look everywhere but at Jason.

He snickers a bit at the boy’s expression and puts the can back in the cabinet.

“Y’know, if I were you, I think I’d appreciate something not so bitter to eat,” Jason says casually, grabbing a can of mushrooms and another with tomatoes before closing the cabinet door and setting them down on the free space next to the stove. 

He moves to open his small fridge and takes out the leftover rice he’d saved from the Chinese takeout he had the day before. He sets that next to the cans before going to search for the next item.

From the corner of his eye, Jason can see the kid silently grab for the chair closest to him and drag it into a position he can sit on.

Reaching up to the cabinet storing his pots and pans, he lifts a small pan down from under a few others and lights the stove on.

While the fire heats up the stove, he pours a bit of vegetable oil into the pan and throws the rice in. After that, he takes a can opener out from a drawer and opens the cans of mushroom and tomatoes. Jason tosses them both in the pan to cook once their lids are cut off.

He mixes the food around with a spatula he finds in the same drawer as the can opener and hums to fill the silence, occasionally throwing a curious glance at his small intruder-turned-guest.

“What’s your name kid?” Jason questions, trying to change the awkward atmosphere with what he hopes won’t be an awkward conversation. “Mine’s Jason,” he adds, a beat too late.

The kid startles a bit from his position and hesitates a second before opening his mouth to reply.

“Richard, but my par-“ he chokes on the word, lips pressed in a thin line while tears gather in his eyes yet again. Jason’s heart aches at the sound. “-but everyone calls me Dick,” the kid amends quietly.

 _Maybe not abusive parents,_ Jason thinks to himself. _Escaping the system?_

Jason quickly flips the food in the pan one last time before depositing them in the plates he’d laid out a second earlier.

“Well Dick,” Jason wants to use the nicknames his mind helpfully (read: _not_ ) supplied him with since the kid - _Dick_ \- told him his name, but thinks the small stab at humor might not be well received in the current situation. “Want to tell me how you got in here?”

Dick watches Jason as he approaches the table, curiously eyeing the food he’s holding.

“I opened the window,” Dick whispers, looking like he’s trying hard not to pounce on the plate that’s set in front of him. Jason settles down on the seat Dick didn’t take, and he waves his hand in a gesture that tells Dick he can dig in.

“You know how to unlock a window?” Jason asks, taking a bite from his own plate.

Dick finally picks up the spoon, taking a small test bite, and, after deeming it good to eat, all but shoves the food in his mouth.

_I wonder how long it’s been since he last had a warm meal._

Jason doesn’t like how fast Dick’s going through the food. It reminds him of himself when he was younger.

He had to scavenge for food when times got really bad, and if he found something, he had to eat it as quickly as he could, lest someone tried to steal it from him.

Jason’s grateful he‘d been able to get out on his own when he did.

“It’s not hard when you’ve had a lotta practice,” Dick replies shyly, words slightly muffled from the food he’s trying to talk around.

He’s finished half a minute later, and Jason doesn’t think twice when switching his half-eaten plate with Dick’s empty one. He watches as the kid downs it just as fast as the first.

“Is there a reason you’re unlocking windows late at night instead of at home?” Jason asks carefully, gathering the cleared dishes and utensils.

He notices Dick wince at the word ‘home’ and files that as a subject to inquire about later.

“My home’s gone,” the statement’s said so softly, so sadly, that Jason barely manages to catch it before the sink’s turned on and he’s scrubbing the plates clean.

“I’m sorry,” is all Jason can say.

 _In the system then,_ he deduces.

It’s quiet as Jason rinses, dries, and puts away the dinnerware.

“Thank you for the meal, Jason,” Dick offers politely, breaking the silence. “You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve kicked me out and sent me on my way, but you didn’t, so thank you.”

Jason’s slightly taken aback, not used to anyone thanking him for anything.

“No problem, kid. Anytime,” Jason replies honestly, earning a small, quick smile from his guest. He moves to take his seat at the table again.

Jason watches as Dick shifts awkwardly, eyes darting from around the room to his fiddling hands on the table, but never to Jason.

“Are you going to take me back now?” Dick’s voice is soft and scared, even when he looks to be trying hard not to let his fear show.

Jason blinks dumbly for a second at the odd question. “Take you where?”

Dick grimaces, and Jason can practically see his anxiety rising.

“The Detention Center,” Dick whispers fearfully. Jason knows there’s a story he’s got to be missing, because there’s no way in hell such a well-mannered kid just happened to end up at a facility that housed troubled kids when there are much better places to put him in.

”I can get back, though, on my own.” Dick says quickly. “It’s late, and you’ve already given me so much when I’ve done nothing but break into your home. I’m sorry for intruding, honest! I can-“

“Hey, hey, no, it’s ok,” Jason interrupts. He figures Dick’s starting to panic-ramble in an attempt to explain himself. “Yea, you woke me up and scared me half to death,” that earns an apologetic look from the smaller boy. ”but it’s all good now,” he reassures.

Jason makes the decision then and there to call up the contact who helped him out of his past situation again. Whatever place Dick escaped from was like couldn’t have been good if he feared going back to it this much.

Dick looks uncertain, not daring to hope he’s off the hook for good.

“What’s this about the Detention Center though?” Jason questions, raising an eyebrow.

Yup, not off the hook in the slightest.

“CPS says it’s the only place that will take me,” Dick explains. “The other places were full, so I’ve been staying there since… since my parents died,” he finishes, sniffling near the end.

“I am- _was_ ,” he corrects, sorrow painting his face as he continues. “Part of a traveling circus. Haly’s Circus if you’ve heard about it.” Dick’s eyes are covered by the uneven cut of his bangs, his head bowed as he recalls the events that lead him up to his current situation.

Jason vaguely remembers hearing about a circus performing in town at work recently. He recalls sympathetic whispers from both customers and coworkers alike about the tragedy that made headlines a few days before.

“Our act was called The Flying Graysons. We- _I’m_ \- a former aerialist. The ropes holding my parents while they performed broke before I was able to jump in and they- they fell,” Dick sobs, choking out the last word. He wipes at his eyes furiously, trying to keep his grief at bay.

It does little but make his vision more blurry, and he soon gives up trying altogether.

“Please Jason, I don’t want to go back!” Dick confesses, head shooting up to face Jason. “They’re so mean to me, and I don’t know what I did! The woman who brought me there says there’s no place for _Gypsies_ like me anywhere but there, and the boys keep making mean comments about my parents and how they deserved to fall, just that they should’ve with me falling too! No one believes me when I say I didn’t get these scratches from tripping or being clumsy. I’m scared they’ll punish me real bad when I get back! I just want my parents!” He cries.

The raw hurt and confusion that coats Dick’s every word ignites and fuels a flame of anger in Jason. He’s sure that if he wasn’t trying so hard to maintain a calm exterior facade for Dick that he’d be marching himself to the Detention Center right that second and give them a piece of his goddamn mind.

“You don’t have to go back,” Jason declares loudly, surprising both himself and the child in front of him, effectively halting his sobs.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” he clarifies awkwardly. “I have some… _connections_ I can ask favors from. You won’t have to go back if you don’t want to,” Jason finishes lamely, lowering his voice and bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Dick’s eyes are shining with barely restrained hope, tear tracks lining his young face. His voice is painfully hesitant when he speaks again.

“Do you mean it? That I don’t have to go back?”

Jason makes sure to look directly in Dick’s eyes as he makes his promise.

“No, not if you don’t want to.”

The relief that breaks through Dick’s expression makes the anger that’s been slowly festering up inside Jason dissipate in an instant. He knows, in that moment, that he’d do anything to help the kid who broke into his home not an hour before.

“I don’t want to go back,” Dick confirms, the smallest hint of joy finding its way into his words.

Jason offers him a smile at the sound.

“Well then, welcome to your new home, if you’ll take it?” Jason doesn’t know if what he’s doing is the result of too little sleep or too much anger towards the unfairness of the system, but he doesn’t feel it’s right to throw Dick back to the wolves after his sudden breakdown and confession.

Dick reaches a hand out in front of Jason and gives him his first real smile of the night.

“Thank you, Jason,” he whispers gratefully.

Yeah, Jason might not know exactly what he’s doing, but he knows he doesn’t regret the decision.

“Anytime, kid.” He replies, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake.

He’s rewarded with an impossibly brighter smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason reflects a bit about life and a new little brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit shorter than the last chapter, and it's quite rushed in my opinion because I really want to get into the more fluffy parts of this story, so please bear with me as I fumble around a bit here ;w;
> 
> I know I said I wouldn't do an immediate follow-up for the previous chapter, but I was hit by a moment of inspiration, and thus, this was born.
> 
> It isn't very dialogue heavy, it just explains/sets up the story a bit more to give you an idea of what I'm trying to work with.
> 
> I do hope it's still enjoyable though!
> 
> Also, I've officially made Jason 18 and Dick 11, happy reading!

Jason’s just barely slipped past the border between consciousness and unconsciousness when a slight dip and soft creak on the right side of his bed jerks him back to the land of the living.

He almost lashes out at the movement before realizing he’s not being attacked, just receiving another overnight visit from the small guest he’d offered his home to not two months prior.

Deeming himself and the kid safe from any immediate danger, he carefully unwraps his hand from around the handle of the pocket knife stashed under his pillow and turns to face the source of the sound.

He hears more than sees the small body at the edge of the bed shuffle closer to the top, attempting to hide a sniffle that tells Jason he’s had another nightmare.

Jason waits until the shuffling comes to a stop before stretching a hand out to pull the kid up and nearly on top of himself.

Once Dick’s settled close to Jason’s side, a skinny arm automatically wrapping itself around Jason’s stomach and his head resting contently on his shoulder, he pulls the covers back over them and gets comfortable.

“Do you think they’ll ever go away? The nightmares?” Asks a soft voice.

Jason doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing the raw heartbreak in Dick’s voice, no matter how often it shows itself.

“I don’t know,” comes the honest reply. “But it’ll get easier, I promise.”

The somewhat nightly visits were a new occurrence now that Jason made it clear he was open to comforting the child when things became even a little bit too much to handle on his own.

The first few nights were especially rough for Dick, not that Jason knew until he caught the kid muffling his sobs in the spare blanket Jason was able to find him.

That in itself had been an accomplishment. The walls were known to be notoriously thin, which made Jason even more disappointed in himself than he was when he first found out that he hadn’t heard them sooner.

Jason had woken up in the middle of the night feeling like a desert had made its home in his throat. He’d rolled himself out of his bed and made his way to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water when his ears honed in on the quiet cries.

There was a moment in which Jason forgot he was no longer living alone anymore, and ( _not that he’ll ever admit it out loud_ ) nearly jumped out of his skin when Dick poked his head out from under the blanket he’d wrapped around himself on the couch.

After seeing his tear streaked face the second the lights were turned on, Jason rushed to pick the child up and carry him to his room, water momentarily forgotten until Dick asked what he was doing up.

From that point on, Jason made a mental note to leave his door unlocked at night and told the child he was welcome in, no questions asked, no matter what time it was.

It didn’t matter if Dick woke him up or if he asked to stay with him moments before they were getting ready for bed, Jason never turned down his request and was often rewarded with (if Dick asked during the latter times) a grateful smile and armful of warmth that he’d never admit he quickly learned to love receiving.

He’d initially offered Dick his bedroom to sleep in while Jason took the couch the night he told the kid he could stay with Jason, but Dick’d said he was more comfortable sleeping on the smaller furniture and liked being able to see the night sky from the only open window in the apartment.

Just for the record, Jason knows the difference between the truth and a lie; had to learn how to tell in order to survive long out in the streets, but he’d kept his concerns to himself, thinking he needed to be giving the kid a bit of privacy to mourn his loss, not hovering over him like a hawk.

After all, it wasn’t like he was Jason’s responsibility...

Not in that moment anyway.

And Jason _was_ giving him privacy, but judging by Dick’s habit of jumping on Jason and clinging to his waist like a koala the second he heard the front door open after a long day at work, Jason figured he wasn’t giving Dick the comfort he had been seeking, instead using the blanket he’d been offered as a substitute.

Jason rectified that mistake the second he found out.

Now, Jason wasn’t particularly a very touchy-feely kind of person. Never had been with the types of parents he’d grown up with, even less so since his mom died from drug overdose when he was just 13 years old, but something about the kid snuggled close to his side made the physical affection bearable, even welcome, albeit foreign.

He muses silently to himself that Dick’s charm could be something even Batman wouldn’t be able to resist. Hell, Dick could probably wrap Gotham’s worst criminals around his pinky and make them turn over a new leaf just by asking politely.

 _In another life_ , Jason thinks wistfully.

A soft snore breaks Jason out of his thoughts. He moves his head to look at the now-sleeping child’s face, noting the dark circles still present under his eyes and the slight opening of his mouth.

Jason frowns at the little progress Dick’s made at filling out since he first met the kid, but is satisfied enough when he notices Dick’s expression isn’t scrunched up in a grimace that indicates a bad dream is in progress.

Though Dick’s still skinny as hell, there’s enough baby fat still left in his cheeks that when he lays his head down like how he is on Jason’s shoulder, it squishes his features just enough to look illegally adorable.

_He’s probably gonna be one hell of a looker once he grows up._

The sudden thought makes Jason tug Dick a bit closer to his body, as if trying to protect him from the phantom hoards of boys and girls alike that might crowd his little brother once he’s old enough to date.

Jason blinks at himself in surprise, caught between wanting to pursue the thought of Dick dating further or accepting the fact he just thought of the kid as his _little brother_ when he’s known him for less than two months now.

 _Well,_ he thinks. _Technically, on paper, he_ is _my little brother._

Jason had gotten a hold of the dealer who had connections to the government official that helped Jason stand up on his own two feet shortly after his mom died.

He had known the dealer because he often went to him for the drugs his mother sent him out for, and the official because of a mistake on the man's part.

Being a kid and naturally curious, he became interested in what his mom was so desperate to get her hands on so often. Jason struck up a conversation with the dealer one night, asking what exactly the drugs did, and conveniently learned where a few drug deals were taking place nearly an hour into their talk.

He wasn’t interested in _taking_ the drugs he was paying for or getting himself involved in the dealing business, seeing what they did to his mom when she was coming down from her highs and the deep hole the man dealing to him was in, but he _was_ interested in being owed a few favors when the dealer let slip how closely connected the man was to a highly ranked government official, thus making his dealing life a lot easier than most.

Jason used the insider information he got over the years on where some big drug deals were supposed to go down to anonymously tip the police off a few hours before and let the dealer believe he had some kind of benevolent gift of foresight.

He’d been able to get him out of those few drug busts from either the police or Batman, and in return, had the man indebted to him for it.

Jason’s aware that none of those deeds were good lawfully, but his goal wasn’t to become some do-gooder golden boy, it was to survive the streets long enough to see his life through. So what if he cut some corners and burned some bridges to get there? At least he had the nerve to snatch up the opportunities presented to him.

Which leads to the situation he’s found himself in now.

Once the dealer connected him to the government official that helped him out years prior, they quickly forged new documents for Dick the day after he first came into Jason's life, no questions asked, stating Dick's relationship to Jason was that he was his long-lost step-brother.

The official story was that Dick was the result of a one-night stand Jason’s mother had before drugs were all she could think of and highs were being chased instead of jobs.

The made-up man who abandoned Dick to the system at the age of 7 because he’d become fed up with caring for a bastard child of a girl he barely knew about was never documented when he dropped the kid off at a random orphanage, and Dick had been bouncing around different care centers ever since.

The official was even able to forge a paper that stated the next of kin (in the event that Jason’s mother or the imagined father ever died) would be notified to take custody of Dick if they were of age and had the resources to care for him.

Jason kept the letter that ‘notified’ him of his official custody over Dick in his work bag so that he’s able to prove his claim over the kid if he’s ever questioned for it.

And thus, after weeks of waiting anxiously for the documents to come in and cement Dick’s story to tie him to Jason permanently, Richard ‘Dick’ Todd was born.

As for the ‘Richard John Grayson’ that just so happened to disappear a day before ‘Richard Todd’s’ appearance in the system, rumors were put in place that the kid suffered heavy injuries at the Detention Center Dick was sent to, and was discovered dead in the streets near Crime Alley the morning after, body unidentifiable but from the number tag Dick conveniently still had taped on his upper left arm despite the conditions the body was found in.

No one ever bothered to verify the DNA of forgotten children anyways, and a child who’s only connection to existence was the honest word of the circus he wasn’t allowed back to was no exception.

There wasn’t a single person able to identify the body by looks anyway. The circus was already far away from Gotham by the time news spread, and those who actually saw the child didn’t bother to come in and confirm the body’s identity, too grossed out to go anywhere near it or not caring enough to look closely for differences that suggest otherwise.

The fact that it was small enough to _be_ Richard John Grayson and that it had the number tag on the arm it was placed on was enough to soothe away any suspicion that the body was anyone but.

The only two people to know the truth and _care_ about it were sleeping soundly in a two-room apartment building a few blocks away from Crime Alley.

Somewhere on the outskirts of Gotham, though, the man behind the mask mourned for the boy he’d been too late to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping this is understandable. I'm no expert in these types of situations, so I apologize if any of it sounds unrealistic!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get donuts! But run into a little trouble on the way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this out yesterday, but I felt the chapter wasn't really fitting well with the story and tried to rework a few more things in.
> 
> I struggled a lot with a majority of this chapter, and am not completely satisfied with it, but don't know how else to rework it, so I did my best at re-editing what I had and voila!
> 
> Happy reading!

“Jason,” whispers a voice. Said man tilts his head to the side, indicating he’s paying attention, but never taking his eyes off the display in front of him.

“Do you think the Batman themed donuts taste like the color black?”

Jason thinks he should be less surprised at the question than he actually is, given the sheer amount of similar bizarre ones that come out of the kid’s mouth on a daily basis.

Alas, his eyes still widen a tad and he’s forced yet again to pause and really consider the question.

“Why do you think that, squirt?” Jason questions back, earning a pout from the 11 year-old.

Ever since the papers came in to finalize Dick’s connection to Jason, the latter had taken the liberty to call him any and all height-related nicknames that exist under the sun.

Dick had both verbally and facially expressed his dislike of them. Jason’s seen the look on Dick’s face when he thinks his back is turned to him as he teases him, though, and is confident Dick secretly loves the verbal affection.

( _Not that it_ is _affection. Of course not. They just needed to keep up appearances, that’s all_ )

In the beginning, Jason had told him they needed to convince a few people of their lie. Then, Jason made the excuse that habits just don’t randomly die off all of the sudden.

Dick suspects Jason just likes to constantly remind him of how short he is.

( _I’m not that short, Jason, I’m perfectly normal-sized for my age!_

_Yeah, yeah, tell that to the doctors who specialize in child development,_ squirt.

_Say that to me again when I grow up taller than you in a couple-a years!_

_In your dreams, short-stack!_ )

Jason smiles to himself at the memory.

“Because it’s gotta match his image, _duh_.” Dick huffs, pulling Jason back to the present with a tone implying he should’ve been able to figure that out on his own. “Or, according to the Bat symbol drawn in the middle, maybe it tastes very, very dark grey.”

Jason lets out an all-suffering sigh while Dick snickers at his pain, his face graced with a triumphant smirk.

The two had just left the theater after watching, you guessed it, _The LEGO Movie_. 

Jason has never been more mentally scarred from an animated film in his life.

He will admit that he’s slightly impressed by the fact that some animation company was able to get away with such a portrayal of the dark vigilante on screen.

Batman has never even been seen with a partner in crime, much less accepted help from heroes that don such flashy colors. If the crime fighter himself were to see the film, Jason’s sure he’d have an aneurysm due to the soundtrack alone.

Since they got out, Dick has been trying his best to come up with jokes and it’s only been 15 minutes, tops.

Before heading home and calling it a night, Dick begged to grab a quick, late-night snack and all but dragged Jason into the closest sweet-filled store he’d set his sights on, thus landing them where they were at this very moment.

“Ok, _master builder_. Another joke out of you and you’re going to be stuck doing the _Bat chores_ for a week,” Jason scolds, making Dick gasp in mock offense, a hand shooting over his chest as his mouth drops and his eyes go comically wide.

“You wouldn’t _dare!_ ”

Jason curls his lip smugly. “Try me.”

Dick moves to make a jump for Jason’s back, wrapping his small arms around his shoulders and hooking his legs tight on Jason’s waist, securing his hold on his older brother.

“You little _monkey!_ ” Jason screeches, trying to regain his lost balance while simultaneously swatting at the gremlin currently taking residence on his back.

He’s careful to avoid hitting the tables and chairs set up around the store, internally grateful to whatever deity out there that decided this store in particular would be empty of anyone but the worker in the back right after a movie.

Dick just laughs at Jason as he makes a show of his struggles, the sound bright and joyful, filling the once-quiet atmosphere.

The worker seems to decide _right then_ would be the perfect time to come back into the main part of the store and outright balks at the scene in front of her.

Jason’s just about given up on getting Dick off of him and tucks his arms under the kid’s legs in defeat, hoisting him up into a more comfortable position.

Dick’s laughs have tapered off into quiet giggles, and Jason finds himself yearning to make the kid laugh like that again.

Happy moments between the two have been gradually growing in number, but Dick still struggles with night terrors and just overall coming to terms with his parents’ fate over 4 months ago. Jason thinks he’s done a wonderful job at picking himself up and moving on with his life, but keeps a watchful eye out for any sudden mood changes so he can jump in and comfort the kid.

The worker politely smiles at the pair and waits patiently for them to settle and place their order.

“I’ll take the jelly-filled chocolate donut and he’ll have the pink one with sprinkles on it,” Jason says, smiling back sheepishly.

The worker nods and goes to get the requested treats.

“You eat _jelly-filled donuts?!_ ” Comes a surprised yelp near his left ear. “You’re a menace to society! A demon in disguise! The Batman’s got a target on you now!”

Dick mimics the shooting of a grappling gun and the swooping of a cape, arms flailing through the motions to showcase his words.

Jason has to move along with the kid to keep him from falling off his back, rolling his eyes and trying (but failing) to keep a smile off his face.

The worker comes back with their bagged treats and Jason places Dick down on his own two feet for a second to pay and thank the woman, both for allowing their behavior in the store and for the food.

She waves off the former thanks and wishes them a good night as they make their way out the door.

The walk back to the apartment is quiet as the pair silently enjoy their sugary delights, throwing away the paper bags in a random dumpster they walk past.

Halfway from their home, Jason feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and registers a hostile presence from behind.

His stomach twists uncomfortably and he’s suddenly tensing up at the feeling, dreading the idea that they’re being stalked. Jason’s not often out on the streets with Dick this late at night, and the kid’s never experienced how bad Gotham’s nightlife can be ( _something Jason selfishly wished he’d never have to experience until he was a bit older, if ever_ ), so he keeps his outward appearance as calm as he can and forces himself to continue on.

There aren’t many people out in the streets making their way home from a late movie, so losing the tail in a crowd or walking past someone of more interest is impossible at best.

Not wanting to alert Dick of the hostile newcomer, Jason takes Dick’s free hand and steers them into a safer street to walk through, not caring if it took them farther away from the apartment than closer.

He can sense the slight confusion emitting from his brother at the sudden detour, but is grateful when he isn’t questioned for it.

Jason weaves around a few streets and backtracks a couple times in hopes of losing the tail he has yet to see. By now, Dick has picked up on the stalker and presses himself closer to Jason as they walk. Jason in turn has wrapped the hand holding Dick’s free one around the boy’s shoulder in an attempt to both shield and comfort him.

It isn’t until they turn into the third corner they’ve walked around that the stalker becomes confrontational.

Jason’s already pushing Dick behind him before they’ve even fully come into view.

The man in front of Jason is bulkier than him, but he looks to be just a hair shorter in height. His features are hidden behind the shadows of a light source somewhere behind him, and his hands are settled deep in the pockets of his coat.

His stance is nonchalant, but his body language tells Jason he’s ready to get physical if he wants to. Jason can already tell what the man wants before he opens his mouth for it.

“Give me everything ya got and no one gets hurt,” the stalker demands, bringing his right hand out of his coat pocket with the palm faced up.

“I don’t think so, shitbag,” Jason hisses, more angry at the demand than fearful of the situation.

Jason moves to make a run for it down the alley they’d just entered, tugging Dick along with him, but stops short a few steps when another man walks into view, effectively cutting off their escape route and trapping the brothers.

“I won’t repeat m’self again,” sneers the man from before. Jason quickly backs Dick and himself into a wall to prevent a surprise attack from Jason’s blind spot. Dick is darting fearful eyes back and forth between the two thieves, hands finding their way around Jason’s waist and nails digging into his shirt in terror.

Jason’s frantically searching for a way out, for a weak spot he can exploit from the two men closing in on them before it’s too late.

“Give us whatcha got and we’ll leave ya alone,” the second man parrots, lifting his hand purposefully to reveal a gun.

“Don’t sound like too bad a deal, huh?” The first man calls, revealing a second gun in his hold. “Your valuables for your life. And the kids’. Don’t try t’ be the hero here.”

Jason’s anger _burns_ to sucker-punch the two goon’s lights out, but he’s sure at least one of them has a decent aim and he’s not about to risk Dick’s life to find out just to get a second’s worth of satisfaction.

He holds his hands up in surrender, furious that he has to comply with their demands.

“I don’t got much on me, and he’s got nothin’, so keep your filthy hands off ‘im if ya know what’s good for ya,” Jason growls, baring his teeth at the eyes the second man makes towards Dick, who’s fully hiding behind Jason now.

The two men stop a short distance away, the one who first brought out the gun pointing it directly at Jason with the safety clicked off in an attempt to intimidate.

“I’m going to be reaching into my pockets to get the shit, dirt bags, so back. _Off_.” Jason snaps, enraged at their cocky expressions. 

Just as Jason’s pulled out his wallet to toss at the thieves, a black mass rushes down to kick thief #1 in the face ( _quite hard from the crunch Jason hears_ ) and punches thief #2 out cold in a single heavy swing.

Thief #1 is sent crashing to the ground with a heavy thump. Judging by the sudden burst of red on his face, his nose is gushing blood and by the shriek he’d just let out, it’s probably broken too.

The man claws at his head and scrambles on all fours to get away from the shadow that just saved Jason’s wallet. There’s a loud smack and thief #1 is down for the count.

All Jason can do is stare in shock at the men that nearly stole a few week’s worth of money mere moments before.

There’s a whimper and the tightening of small arms around Jason’s waist that knocks him out of his wonder and makes him turn to the source.

Jason has to pry his brother’s arms off his waist so he can maneuver freely again and turn his body to crouch down and face him.

Dick’s face is a red mess of tears and snot and his breathing is much too shallow to be normal.

“Hey, hey, you’re ok, Dickie, you’re ok,” Jason soothes, rubbing his hands up and down Dicks’ arms in an attempt to bring him back in the moment. “Shh, hey, you’re ok. You’re safe, they’re gone now, they can’t hurt you anymore. Shh, you’re ok.”

Dick’s whimpers have intensified to cries now, but he seems to be making a subconscious effort to quiet himself. His breathing hitches and shudders in his lungs, sobs turning to wet gasps.

Jason knows they can’t stay in the alleyway for long, not without risking another situation similar to the one that just occurred, so he gathers Dick up in his arms and moves to get them out and back to their apartment.

He almost runs into the massive black form that just saved their asses in his rush and takes a step back to further the distance between them, defenses on high alert yet again.

It barely registers in his mind that they’d just been saved by _the fucking Batman_ and Jason glares viciously at the vigilante that’s standing between him and his way back home.

His hold tightens around Dick as he growls out what he hopes to be an intimidating, _“Move.”_ at the hero.

He duly notes the two thieves tied up on the opposite side of where Jason and Dick had been cornered and is slightly apologetic of his tone towards the person who’d helped them get out of a dangerous situation.

The shadow narrows the white slits that must be eyes at Jason but moves to the side to let him through.

Jason wastes no time sprinting the rest of the way back home, whispering words of comfort as Dick struggles to control his emotions, not stopping until he’s fumbling with the keys to unlock his front door.

Once he has both Dick and himself inside, he deposits his shaking brother into the room they share and goes to grab a wet hand towel from the bathroom.

Breathing heavily from possibly his fastest sprint back to the apartment in years, Jason closes and locks the bedroom door quickly, creating an extra level of protection and barrier of comfort between the outside world and the room he and Dick are in.

Jason approaches his terror-ridden brother with caution, holding both hands out in a similar fashion he’d done when they’d first met a few months back.

“Hey Dickie, you feeling better?” Jason starts, voice soft and reassuring as he settles down in front of the kid.

Dick stares wide eyed and small at Jason, but nods an affirmative and reaches out to him for comfort.

He slowly brings both hands up to cup Dick’s face and begins to gently wipe the tears away. Dick hangs his hands on Jason’s arms as he works and grounds himself to the touch.

“That was scary, huh? I’m sorry ‘bout that, Dickie. I won’t let it happen again if I can avoid it, yeah? You’re ok, squirt, you’re safe.”

Dick shakes his head rapidly, opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something but can’t get the words out. Jason makes a move to hug him, and Dick all but melts into the offered embrace.

After a few failed attempts to speak again and a much dirtier wash cloth, Dick’s able to get out his fear-laced confession.

“You could’ve been h- _hurt!_ ”

Jason’s taken aback by the emotion backing those four words. He searches his mind for an appropriate response but finds he’s fresh out, too surprised at Dick’s worry for _Jason’s_ safety rather than his own.

“You could’ve _died_ , Jason! They didn’t like the t-tone of voice you were using with them, I could _tell_. And they were ready to k- _kill_ you for it!” Dick panics, breath picking up yet again. “You could’ve _died_ , Jason! And it would’ve been a- _all my fault_ because I couldn’t do a-anything to help you!”

Dick clings impossibly closer to him and tightens his hold like there’s no tomorrow. The tears once dried a second ago are streaming back down his face in full force and the strength he’s using to hold onto Jason nearly crushes the air out of his lungs.

“Don’t do that again Jason, don’t you _dare!_ ” He shouts, voice full of hurt and near-abandonment.

“Hey, Dickie, calm down. I’m not planning to do that shit anytime soon, promise,” Jason comforts, rubbing slow circles up and down his brother’s back. “And nothing that happened was your fault. There’s no reason to think that. We’re safe. Hell, we even caught the _Batman’s_ attention, just like you said,” Jason tries, voice falling just short of playful.

“Which was _my fault_ , Jason!” Dick insists, not consoled in the slightest. “ _I_ was the one who a-asked to get the donuts when we could’ve gone s-straight home! _I_ told you Batman would put a t-target on you for your choice, and he technically _did_ when those t-thugs showed up! It’s _my_ fault you were almost killed!”

In any other situation, Jason would’ve laughed and teased at his brother’s patchy deduction skills. Holding the kid in his arms as he helps him through his panic makes Jason realize how important it is to make sure Dick knows the difference between a chance meeting and a planned event.

“No, no Dickie, no, it’s most definitely _not_ your fault. There’s no way in _hell_ that what you said back in the store could’ve been anything more than a coincidence.” The hard conviction in Jason’s voice calms the sobs down a bit, giving Dick enough confidence to loosen his hold just a hair and turn his face to lock watery blue eyes with dry teal ones.

“ _None_ of that was your fault, you hear me? _None_.”

“But, Jason-”

“No ‘but’s. It wasn’t your fault and that’s final, ‘kay? I’m the bigger brother here, I know better,” Jason states confidently, allowing a small smile and some teasing to seep into his words.

Dick, wanting to trust the only other person that helped him through the toughest days of his life, offers a tight smile back. He’s not fully convinced, but he doesn’t want to argue the point any further, exhausted from the nights’ chaotic turn of events.

Dick has successfully turned off his waterworks and finally winds himself down into small sniffles before a thought pops into his head.

“You’re not mad at me for not helping you?” He whispers carefully, afraid his helplessness worked to escalate the situation and incapacitate their escape.

“Why would I be mad at you for that? There wasn’t anything you _or_ me could’ve done differently,” Jason reassures. “There’s no fuckin’ way in hell I’d let them shoot you in exchange for my escape, ya got that? Sorry to say you’re stuck with me, Dickie. All the way to the bitter end, squirt.”

The declaration earns a tired smile and content sigh as Dick relaxes even further into Jason’s hold.

Jason moves to relocate them up on the bed and lays down with Dick resting on his stomach. He doesn’t really care all that much in that moment about sleeping in the uncomfortable clothes he still has on him. All he cares about is that he’s still got a little brother to protect and that they’d both made it relatively safe back home.

They’re both out like a light a few minutes after they’ve laid down, comfortable knowing they’re still both here to see another tomorrow.

Unbeknownst to the pair, a dark hero stops by the apartment buildings one final time with an insistently random urge to assure himself that the brothers are indeed safe from danger, and goes back to finishing their patrol around town early into the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at work! But not before Dickie almost burns their place down... Oops?
> 
> Maybe a new friend comes into their lives? No? Okay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to start off by saying thank you all for the lovely comments so far! I'm honestly so thrilled this is getting such positive feedback and to see others who share the same love for this trope :D
> 
> I do apologize for the long update! Life has not been all too kind and writer's block combined with personal doubt is nasty to deal with :')
> 
> I won't take too much of your time here though! Happy reading!

Luckily, the thing that wakes Jason up isn’t the sudden, piercing scream of his apartment fire alarm. Neither is it the rush of brightly colored strangers dressed in protective fire gear into the kitchen at nearly 6 am in the morning.

That, unfortunately, comes a little later.

Unlucky, he’s told that the smell that _did_ wake him up will probably stick around for the next month or two.

Oh, the joys of cooking.

After the last of the firemen make their way out of the building, ensuring neighboring residences that they’re in no danger of a fire or evacuation this early in the day, Jason turns to the almost-arsonist with a glare that he thinks is both harshly reprimanding and defeated exhaustion.

The kid responsible for almost burning the place down is crunched up in himself on the couch and shooting Jason his best apologetic, puppy-eyed look in response.

Jason goes from having his hands on his hips to crossing them in front of his chest and raising an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the explanation that has yet to come.

Dick fidgets more and more in his seat as the silence between the two stretch into minutes. Jason can practically hear the gears turning in his head, looking for a way to explain the situation without throwing himself too far under the bus.

Finally, at around the 3 minute mark ( _yes, Jason likes to keep the time and no, Dickie, Jason_ definitely _didn’t keep the habit when he saw his little brother’s expression of open admiration the first time around, that’s_ totally _not what happened_ -), Dick is unable to handle the silence and opens his mouth.

“The setting on the toaster is set higher than it should be,” is what’s offered first. Jason’s unimpressed with Dick’s attempted deflection and says nothing.

“That came out wrong,” he tacks on quickly. “I meant, I wanted to make you breakfast before you went to work, but I didn’t know how to turn on the toaster, so I turned the knob with the numbers on it all the way up, put the bread in, and pushed the springer thing.”

That… is unfortunately believable, considering Jason’s the only one who uses the thing often and Dick usually raids the fridge or pantry for food. It’s a given that he’s able to reach the microwave more easily than he can the toaster, so Jason can’t really completely fault the kid for the misunderstanding.

The sigh that leaves Jason’s body probably shaved off a good few years from his most-likely short life ( _no one who’s lived in this shitty hellhole their entire lives has seen themselves past 40, and if they have, they probably don’t live_ there _anymore_ ). He wonders briefly whether an unlucky encounter with an armed criminal or his little brother making an honest attempt at cooking will be the death of him.

He kind of hopes it’s the unlucky encounter.

Preferably without Dick being with him to witness it, if only to save him from seeing yet another family member die while watching helplessly on the sidelines.

It’s better than the alternative, in which the kid will undoubtedly blame himself for Jason’s demise and punish himself accordingly.

Jason’s quick to divert his thinking before he wanders too far into _that_ rabbit hole.

“When I smelt the smoke, I panicked and unplugged the toaster... I kind of forgot I had eggs on the stove too,” Dick continues, cringing at himself and shooting Jason a sheepish look.

“At least nothing but breakfast was burned too badly?” He offers. “Unless, you’re more mad about the smell? Which, in my defense, the bottles you have for soy sauce and vanilla extract are really similar.”

In all honesty, Jason has no idea how the kid managed to mix up the two bottles. He suspects Dick meant to make his food as sweet as he prefers his own breakfast ( _Fruity Pebbles or Fruit Loops are his go to, but sometimes he’ll take Cinnamon Crunch. Any other alternative gets rejected on the spot, and Jason has to coax his little brother into eating a piece of toast buttered and sprinkled with sugar so he doesn’t go hungry later in the day_ ), but missed his mark entirely and went straight to almost setting the kitchen on fire instead.

 _I applaud parents that managed to get their kid to live past the age of 5_ , Jason internally praises.

“‘m sorry for the trouble, Jason,” Dick whispers, his eyes downcast and his toes wiggling at each other pathetically. He’s somehow curled himself even further into a tiny human ball on the couch, and Jason has half the mind to drop his glare and comfort the kid.

“It’s not _completely_ your fault,” Jason starts slowly, softening his tone to let Dick know he appreciates his efforts to make him breakfast. Dick can hear the ‘ _but_ ’ in his voice, but opts to wait patiently as Jason tries to come up with an appropriate punishment for setting the fire alarm off and getting the firefighters involved.

Jason allows himself a silent groan, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose in slight frustration. He knows if he spends more time trying to think of a punishment, he’ll be late for work, and he _really_ can’t afford to miss his shift. He has bills to pay soon, and as much as he’s grown to love having a little brother around, the extra mouth to feed is starting to put a dent in his savings.

He considers trying for a security position at Wayne enterprises again, but scowls at the idea of working ( _even if indirectly_ ) for that pompous, rich kid _asshole_ of a person, Bruce Wayne.

Jason doesn’t exactly have a criminal record, but he _has_ been caught jaywalking and sneaking out a few necessities by some goody-two-shoes cop and got a ticket that cost him a week’s worth of food and months worth of bruises. He briefly wonders if that’s a bad enough crime to qualify himself for the Wayne program that works to reform ex-cons.

Probably not, but at least he’s got the larger-than-average-build-that’s-automatically-intimidating-to-almost-everyone appearance going for him.

That could potentially land him the job if all else fails. Plus, he’s not opposed to the free education granted to those who qualify.

“Ugh, ok squirt, I really can’t be late for work, so how ‘bout this.” Jason offers. “You’re not allowed to go to the park after my shift’s done this week, ‘kay? Straight home, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. And no _bargaining_ ,” Jason scolds, shuttling Dick’s disagreements down before he gets the chance to voice them. “I know you like practicing on the bars they have there, but you’re gonna have to settle with stretching here at home.”

Jason moves to grab the apartment keys from the hook near the front door and grabs a sweater to throw on. Dick moves himself off the couch to get his own coat and shoves his shoes on quickly before holding a hand out to Jason.

Said man takes the offered hand after putting on his own shoes and locking the apartment door behind them.

Before they’re off, Jason pulls Dick to the side and squats so they’re more at eye level.

“You’re not trouble at all, Dickie, ‘kay? You just made an honest mistake. Everyone does that, there’s no shame to it. Better admit you fucked up than try to blame someone or something else, y’got that?” Jason reassures, brushing a few loose strands from Dick’s face.

Dick nods shyly at Jason, unsure of how else to reply. Jason gives him a thumbs up and retakes his hand again.

The walk ( _well, it was kind of more of a jog to (1) get them to the bookstore on time and (2) allow Dick to burn off some energy before the day starts_ ) takes slightly more than half the time it does on any other day and gives them about 5 minutes to just hang around the sitting area together catching their breath.

Jason had called the store manager earlier in the middle of the chaos that took place about two and a half hours before to inform them that he didn’t think he’d be at the store on time to open it. The manager, a sweet older gentleman with a passionate love for Japanese literature, had told Jason to take a deep breath and come in whenever the crisis had been taken care of or show up the next day if there was any problem.

Jason kind of wonders what he would’ve said if the apartment actually _had_ caught fire and burned to the ground.

That would be an amusing call, albeit in the moment, probably not.

( _Hey, uh, so my place just turned to char, I don’t think I can come in to work today? Or ever? Thanks for the paychecks though! Toodles!_ )

…Yeah, no.

When the clock hits 9 am sharp, Jason finds himself behind the counter, working his way through _Pride and Prejudice_ for the 5th time in the last two months and making fun of each character’s choices yet again.

( _He likes the rich society gossip, ok? It’s entertaining and engaging at the same time. It also passes the time fairly quickly on a slow day, so there’s that._ )

Dick is settled on the blue bean bag that nearly swallows him whole with a Percy Jackson book claiming his attention. Jason’s only able to make him out from where he’s stationed by the feet he sees poking out from the seat.

The days are more often than not slow, mostly because the online part of the store does better business than the in person one ( _‘cause who has the time to get comfy in a homey bookstore anymore these days? Better get the book shipped to their homes than waste precious work hours or sleep time going to the actual store and getting back home again_ ).

Jason won’t lie, he’s grateful for the easy money, and he’s completely free to take home a book or two every week depending on the amount of sales he makes, but sometimes he wishes for a more exciting job.

Not for the first time, Jason ponders the idea of what kind of job Batman’s got in the day. He can’t be making any money catching criminals and hanging them where the police are able to catch and detain them, so what does he do for a living?

A loud ringing of the front door’s bell and the abrupt slamming of said door rips Jason away from the paragraph he’d been reading. Not that he was paying much attention anymore, though.

“Good-” Jason casts a fleeting glance at the clock on the cash register in front of him. “Afternoon, ma’am. How may I help you?” He greets, plastering on his best polite smile.

The woman gives an angry huff, but overall ignores Jason in favor of tugging a kid Jason hadn’t seen enter with her toward the back of the store, where the children’s books are displayed.

Used to dealing with the more stuck up population of Gotham, Jason goes back to reading his book, making sure to keep a close eye on the two customers.

Jason doesn’t even make it to the next page when he hears the lady start making a fuss.

“Ex _cuse me_ , young man. My son wants a place to sit and read his book. Be polite and stop hogging the bean bag.” The lady sneers, voice high pitched and _entitled_.

Jason can see Dick’s confused face pop out from where he’s sitting, glancing quickly around at all the other chairs and tables the two could go to. The woman is glaring down at Dick like he just murdered her entire family and spit on their graves while the kid next to her is tapping his foot on the ground impatiently.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I can get up if you really need me to, but may I ask if you noticed the other places to sit?”

The lady has the nerve to _scoff_ at the innocent question, rolling her eyes as if talking to an imbecile instead of a confused child.

“You’ve been here long enough. My son wants _this_ seat, and you’re keeping him from using it,” the harpy snarks. “Don’t be selfish and let him have the seat. You work here too, don’t you? Stop being lazy and do your job, or I’ll have you _fired_ for arguing with a customer.”

Jason’s blood boils at the woman’s attitude. He’s about to make his way over and send her on her way ( _with a few_ strong _choice words_ ) when Dick speaks up again.

“Don’t you think you’re the one being selfish here, ma’am?” Dick asks sweetly, eyes wide with mock-innocent. “You’re the one specifically taking from another when there are plenty of other choices clearly available to you. Isn’t that being selfish? I would’ve _gladly_ given up my seat for your son if you’d asked _nicely_ instead of implying that you’re entitled to the store’s service without needing to treat the workers with mutual respect.”

The woman’s face goes red with a mix of anger and embarrassment, shocked into speechlessness.

The kid next to her looks like he’s about to whine his way into getting what he wants anyways.

 _Probably not used to being talked back by the help_ , Jason internally growls.

She’s quickly spinning on her feet and slamming the books she’d picked up earlier on the counter _loudly_ before dragging her insult-yelling son out the store unceremoniously.

Jason watches with wicked satisfaction at the scene and shouts a quick ‘ _thank you for coming!_ ’ before the door is fully shut.

In the time it took the lady to exit the store, Dick had gotten up from his seat and made his way next to Jason to watch her go.

“Do you think I was too harsh?” Dick asks, shyly clutching his book closer to his chest and looking as if the ground would swallow him whole.

“Nah squirt, I think you did just fine,” Jason praises, happy Dick was able to stand up for himself. “Y’know, a little birdy might’ve told me that earned you back an hour of playground time for today.”

Dick turns wide, hopeful eyes to his brother. “Really? You mean it?”

“Depends. You wanna take that bird up on its offer?”

“ _Yes!_ A million times _yes!_ ”

Jason watches as Dick flips ( _literally_ ) excitedly and cartwheels back to plop on the bean bag again.

The day is more or less uneventful after the earlier fiasco.

Dick gets his time on the bars and Jason watches his little brother in awe. He makes a point to keep an eye out for anyone that might look suspicious the whole time they’re there.

He’s not too keen on letting them stay out too long after the last incident.

 _First and_ only _incident_ , Jason scowls. _There won’t be another time_.

Jason’s about to call out to Dick and tell him they’re leaving when the flash of a camera catches his attention.

“Hey! The _fuck_ you think you’re doing?” Jason yells, spotting the culprit standing a few feet away from the play structure.

The boy looks to be about a few years younger than himself, his lanky frame dons clothing kids ‘round here wouldn’t have unless you’ve got money to spend. Jason can immediately tell just how out of place the kid is.

He’s definitely not from anywhere around the area, and Jason bets his whole life’s salary ( _plus some more, if he’s being honest with himself_ ) the kid’s family status is somewhere near the top of the food chain. Judging by how hard he just flinched at Jason’s raised voice, he probably wouldn’t be able to handle himself well if he got into any trouble around here either.

Dick’s on the ground now and making his way quickly to Jason’s side, curious as to what made him shout.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just- well, he- I mean, um-” the kid’s a stuttering mess, hands fiddling with the camera that probably costs more than Jason’s life.

Jason decides he doesn’t like him at all.

“Hello, my name’s Dick!” His brother interrupts, shutting the other up immediately. Jason’s sure his heart just skipped a beat hearing Dick so casual with a complete stranger. He might not trust anyone ( _besides Dick_ ) as far as he can throw them, but Dick was never raised to be as wary of anyone and everyone like Jason was.

Still, he mentally scolds his brother for trusting so quickly, so easily. They’re gonna need to have a nice _long_ chat about stranger danger once they’re safe back home.

Jason knows he can’t hold Dick’s openly friendly nature against him, though. Guess he’ll have to be extra cautious to cover for the both of them.

“I’ve never seen you ‘round here b’fore. Where d’ya live?” Dick casually asks, as if he’s being introduced to an old friend instead of a person he literally didn’t know existed until a minute before.

The kid kind of gaps a bit at Dick, eyes darting back and forth between Jason’s suspicious glare and his brother’s friendly smile.

Taking a deep breath ( _to calm himself or gain the confidence to talk again?_ ), the kid straightens himself up ( _which doesn’t really do anything for his height. He’s still a good half foot smaller than Jason, but at least he’s got something on Dick_ ) and opens his mouth to speak.

“My, uh, my name’s Tim. Tim Drake,” he introduces, confidence slowly building up the longer he talks. “I, uh, I don’t live here, I was just around the area. I like taking pictures of things that interest me. You, um, your flipping reminded me of some circus performers.” Tim shuffles awkwardly, eyes analyzing the pair as if calculating the possibilities of how they’d react, and coming up with his own reaction to counter.

Dick stiffens visibly beside Jason, shooting his fight or flight instincts through the roof.

Jason doesn’t get any bad vibes from the kid, but he hasn’t survived this long on the streets by lowering his defenses so soon. He takes a step closer to Tim, shifting so that he’s standing slightly in front of Dick.

“You sell pictures or somethin’?” Jason questions, voice untrusting and teetering on aggressive. He doesn’t really believe, _can’t_ believe, that photos of other people or scenery are taken for reasons other than blackmailing or verification purposes.

His nerves are screaming at him to smash the camera and get rid of Dick’s photo, but the reasonable part of his brain is arguing that doing so could cost him a lawsuit. He doesn’t have that kind of money, and the action could not only cost him jail time ( _if the kid went for assault on top of property damage_ ), it would leave Dick to the system yet again.

Jason’s not about to let him go anywhere near that detention center ever again if he can help it.

Tim seems to catch on to Jason’s meaning and Dick’s change in mood very quickly and blurts, “It’s nothing like that! Promise! I, um, I’ve just been documenting the… less fortunate parts of Gotham,” the last of his sentence is almost lost to the city's natural sounds. “I’ve been working on a project to help the upper class see what they’re deliberately ignoring in favor of increasing their earnings and expanding their influence. I’ve already-”

“Delete them.”

Tim startles at the statement, a mix of confusion and skepticism painting his expression.

“Pardon me?”

Jason lifts a hand to point at the camera Tim’s holding like a lifeline.

“Delete the pictures you took of Dick, or any that have us in the shot, and then you can go.” Jason knows he’s basically threatening the kid, knows that since this isn’t private property, their pictures can be taken regardless of consent, but he’s still worried ( _even almost a year later_ ) that CPS might come knocking on his door one day and arrest him for fraud while dragging Dick screaming and kicking at Jason about a promise he couldn’t keep.

He’ll never admit it out loud, but he’s scared of the abandonment he’ll feel when - _if_ \- Dick gets taken out of his life for good, even if it wasn’t truly his choice to make.

Tim fumbles with his camera while Jason moves himself behind the kid to watch him trash the photo.

He silently mourns the loss once he sees it, though. It’s able to capture Dick’s perfect, wide, worry-free smile. His arms are stretched open like a bird in flight, and his body is angled perfectly against the sun behind him. It looks like he’s glowing by the way it’s captured, and Jason almost takes back his request to delete it. Almost asks to have Tim print it out for him to keep in his wallet like happy family members on TV do.

He keeps his mouth shut though, afraid that by asking for proof that either of them existed like this in the past, he’d never be able to live in the present ever again.

Once the animated paper crumples into the virtual garbage can, Jason moves away from Tim and takes Dick’s hand in his own.

“Sorry about the photo!” Dick calls as Jason drags them both away from the playground. “Hope you got cooler ones earlier though!”

When they round a few corners away from where they left Tim, Jason slows his pace to accommodate for Dick’s smaller stride.

He’s still on guard about the picture, senses on high alert for the possibility of being tailed or having the police called on them, but relaxes a bit when they’re about a block away from the apartment.

“Jason?”

Said man winces internally at how small Dick sounds beside him. He probably unintentionally scared the kid by the way he’d acted towards Tim.

“Are you ok?”

Jason abruptly stops in front of the apartment complex and stares at Dick in surprise. His little brother’s ability to read a person’s emotions like an open book is both comforting ( _because Jason’s not one to outright say anything that might make him look vulnerable_ ) and the slightest bit inconvenient ( _because Jason doesn’t_ do _emotions. He doesn’t_ talk _about them or_ open up _when_ -if- _he needs to_ ).

“Don’t get sappy on me, squirt. Just watchin’ out for us, that’s all,” his attempt at deflection sounds weak even to himself. Jason has to fight to walk calmly into the building and to his door, avoiding Dick’s concerned gaze like a child caught doing something they were told specifically not to do.

He knows Dick knows he’s avoiding having to talk about what happened earlier. That he wouldn’t blow up at a kid like that ( _at any kid at all, really, because Jason_ likes _kids. He doesn’t like adults because they think they’re_ better _just because they’re_ older. _That their word is law because it came from them_.) if it had been in any other type of situation.

Dick wants to help his older brother, he _really_ does, but he’s not completely sure how. He’ll try _something_ though, because Jason’s done so much for him, so he should return the favor, right?

“Y’know Jason, you can talk to me about it. Why you don’t like photos. I won’t judge you, promise.”

And God, Jason _wants_ to, but years of crushing his feelings down and needing to hide behind a mask to survive won’t go away just because someone _asked_ him to. He doesn’t respond because he doesn’t know _how_ , but he’s got the feeling Dick knows what his silence means and doesn’t say anything more on the matter.

He itches for a smoke, for the nicotine that once flowed through his veins and calmed his nerves for a short while, but he threw out all his packs ( _but not after going through one last cig to ease the stress of taking in a kid who’d lost everything a few nights before_ ) months ago and _really_ doesn’t want to pick up the habit again around Dick, lest he come to the conclusion that drugs are the only solution to escape the stress of their lives, even if only for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, Jason locks the door behind them, picks Dick up ( _feeling absolutely at home with the way he automatically wraps his small arms around Jason’s neck and rests his head on his shoulder_ ), and takes them both to their room and just sits on the edge of the bed.

He slowly strokes the soft locks on Dick’s head and feels his brother’s heartbeat sync to his own after a few minutes.

Jason knows he’s avoiding a lot of what’s happened today, but at the moment, he’s mentally exhausted and wants nothing more than to lie down and forget about the existence of anything beyond the door of the bedroom.

It’s hours before either of them move, mainly because Dick’s stomach growled _loudly_ and broke the easy silence between them, but Jason’s more at peace at that moment than he had been all day.

They make their way to the kitchen and enjoy some leftovers from the day before, sharing the adventures they’d gone on with the book characters they followed, forgetting all about the worries plaguing their minds for a couple hours more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, the argument at the bookstore was something I witnessed, just shortened down a lot because I don't remember much of what happened :')
> 
> Gosh, this chapter was actually super hard for me to write out, mainly because I was so focused on trying to make their characterizations more like canon, but the story just wouldn't have it! I personally headcanon that Jason would absolutely be a very soft and caring boi had he not been picked up and trained to be Robin by Bruce. Like, if he and his mom escaped Willis early on in his life or if his mom's overdose was the last straw in helping him stand up on his own two feet, I totally believe he'd take huge measures to ensure he didn't become Willis or use the grief from his mom's passing to better himself in the future.
> 
> Think about all the possibilities! Jason helping kids out because he's been in their situation before and wants the best for them. Jason unable to do feelings because if he showed any at home, he'd be beat for it but also telling other kids how important it is for them to express themselves even if they're told not to!
> 
> So many possibilities to explore, too little confidence on my part for having the writing capability to make these scenarios be more than a mere passing thought.
> 
> This is all my personal opinions though, so of course, if this differs from yours, I totally respect it and encourage your love for whatever trope satisfies you!
> 
> Gah, other than that, I hope you all enjoyed! Until next time! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this now before I lose my nerve entirely and this never gets to see the light of day, I hope you enjoyed!


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